


Post Mortem

by vaeltaa



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Gen Work, Graphic Description, Subtext, Tissue Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 12:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaeltaa/pseuds/vaeltaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He says they found something. On the body." Mallory notes a momentary flash of recollection on Bond's face, as if for a split second he was back inside that cold night on the moors alit with fiery glow, before it returns to normal." Gen, slight 00Silva.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post Mortem

Time at the start of examination is 8:23 on Tuesday the 6th of November. Examination will be performed by Dr. Roberts, speaking; also present is principal pathologist Carl Phillips at Royal London Hospital. 

Case number 2384, subject number 64A. The deceased is male, caucasian or hispanic, approximately 14 stone and 43 years of age, what appears to be bleached, medium length blonde hair, blue eyes... Correction, subject is wearing blue coloured non-prescription contact lenses. Subject's eyes are dark brown. 

According to records released by our liaison at MI6 for the purpose of this forensic autopsy, subject's name at birth is Rodriguez, Tiago, known alias Silva, Raoul. Subject is wearing a knee-length, dark leather coat, a black knitted high-neck pullover beneath, dark navy trousers and dark, tall combat boots. Personal artefacts collected found on the body and at the scene includes a Steyr M9-A1 handgun, a hands-free radio device, and one small, portable memory drive. Also present is the presumed murder weapon, an approximately 11" hunting knife. 

Items will be logged and delivered back into evidence. Pathologist will now collect external samples.

*

James goes in to work that day, even though he's supposed to be on leave. He was never good at sitting still for very long.

"Bond. I was wondering how long you would last. Tanner said four days, I gave you two. Looks like he owes me a drink. Sit." Mallory said and gave him a pointed look from behind his desk.

"Congratulations. M, I've got to get back on the job." Bond pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers and stares at the chair but remains standing.

"You're required time off, Bond. Not much I can do about regulations," Mallory looks at the agent in front of him and sighs. "I just got word from the medical examiner downstairs."

Bond looks up and frowns. 

"He says they found something. On the body."

Mallory notes a momentary flash of recollection on Bond's face, as if for a split second he was back inside that cold night on the moors alit with fiery glow, before it returns to normal. 

"What did they find?"

"A memory stick. Pretty standard model, from what I understood, but when was anything ever standard about that man." Mallory looks at Bond. "I'd like it delivered to Q-branch as soon as possible--"

"I'll do it," Bond says matter-of-factly. "Sir."

Mallory hesitates. "Are you sure you want to go down that road?"

Bond exhales slowly and straightens his back. "I think I need to, M."

Mallory understands all to well, and nods. He watches Bond as he leaves out the door.

*

On first inspection, the deceased has no discerning birth marks or tattoos. Aged scar tissue, however, is prominent and extreme.

Subject displays evidence of prolonged torture in the form of burn marks, subdermal trauma on several limbs, deep scars indicate several cuts on areas all avoidant of any major arteries resulting in blood loss but not immediately life threatening as such, and multiple healed fractures in the ribcage, fingers and feet. 

Scar tissue indicates these injuries date back at least a decade. 

Subject has also sustained massive trauma to the cranium, specifically to the lower mandible and vocal chords. The upper maxilla seems to be entirely eroded on the left side, causing the subject to wear a prosthesis with dentures and voice synthesiser. The prosthesis is of high medical standards, although it bares no identifying numbers or clues towards its manufacture. 

Evidence of faded medical grade sutures suggest the deceased has undergone major reconstructive surgeries. The toxicology report revealed a high presence of prescription drugs in the system, indicative of permanent internal organ damage, most likely requiring life-long medication. 

Recent injuries such as a bleeding from the inner ear, are all consistent with the reports of the subject being within thirty feet of an explosion. The subject also sustained a presumably fatal stab wound in the back between the eight and ninth vertebrae, also consistent with the details listed in the initial report. 

Subject will now be prepped for internal examination, which will eventually be concluded with a definitive cause of death.

*

"Ah, Mr. Bond. Here to collect the evidence?"

The bleak smell of sterility and chemicals overwhelmes James for a moment after he steps into the medical examiners locale. A wave of nausea hit his gut and he tries to avert his eyes from the body but they were traitorous to his wishes. The body of Raoul Silva was covered partially with a white sheet, his clothes folded on a table beside the weapon that finally ended his overdue life. 

The knife he killed him with. It was stained with dried blood, still visible in the sealed plastic containment bag. 

He nods at the doctor, who hands him another evidence bag with a silver memory stick inside. He studies it for a second, grateful for the distraction.

"You're the one who caught him, aren't you?" The doctor asks, politely, but eager curiosity evident in his voice. Bond raises his eyebrow at the expression, _caught_ , but gives the doctor a half-smile. 

"I know, classified information and all. Must be quite the story, though. Much like the story those scars could tell," the doctor continues with a glance at Silva's body. "Agents. I don't know how you do it," he mutters, shaking his head and going back to work.

James leaves the autopsy room feeling suddenly, so very alone. 

The last rat, indeed.

*

Commencing internal examination of case number 2384, subject number 64A at 9:45, Tuesday the 6th of November. 

Pathologist Phillips has made the initial incisions from shoulders to sternum. Proceeding to opening of the chest cavity. On first inspection, all major organs look intact, lending further proof to the theorised cause of death by severing of the spinal column. 

Blood samples are collected from the pulmonary veins, labeled sample #022. Internal scarring on the respiratory tract do not relate to any current injuries that could've caused the subject's demise. Some damage to the lining of the stomach and liver functions lend further explanation to the medications found in the subject's system. 

All internal and cranial damage, with the exception of the fatal stab wound and the trauma sustained when subject was tortured in captivity, is consistent with the earlier report's theory of a malfunctioning standard issue cyanide capsule. Given the time passed and the lack of traces of hydrogen cyanide in toxicology, the exact nature of the malfunction is impossible to deduct at this point.

*

"Gentlemen. Prepare to have your minds blown."

Q looked almost gleeful, standing behind his computer, waving the silver memory stick triumphantly in the air at Bond and M. 

"And you're sure that thing is safe? Because we all fondly recall what happened last time you plugged something of Silva's into our system," M states with stern eyes.

"I'm sure. We've tested this thing on several off-grid computers, scanned it, X-rayed it, you name it. It's just your run-of-the-mill portable drive, nothing fancy. It's the files stored on it that's really going to have you holding on to your hats."

Q taps a few keys on the keyboard in front of him, and the monitors on the wall display rows and rows of files, seemingly unending.

"So, what are we looking at?" Bond asks.

Smiling like a child in a candy store, Q explains. "What you are looking at are names, telephone numbers, IP addresses, money transfers, GPS locations, information transactions... Put simply, the bread crumb trail leading to all the big, bad wolves in the cyber terrorist underworld."

"All of Silva's clients?" M asks, as shocked as an ex-military Lieutenant Colonel could be.

"Everyone he ever did questionable business with, it seems. Colleagues in the world wide hacker industry. We've never seen this quantity of actuable intelligence on these veritable shadow men. This is huge."

As Bond and M leave the Q-branch offices, both are silent.

"Since you're not going to say it, I will," M says, breaking the silence. "Why would Silva give this intel to us? Unless..."

"Unless," Bond interrupts, "he never planned on leaving Skyfall alive." 

M drags a hand down his neck, sighing. James leans his back against the cold, brick wall, suddenly weary.

"He was always loyal, even when he hated MI6," Bond says, almost humorously. "Hated her. He never gave up anything."

M looks at the agent in front of him, brows furrowed. Bond looked lost.

"Can I ask you something, sir?" Bond says, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Of course."

"She said something, in the isolation unit to Silva before he escaped. About his real name. On the memorial wall. Did she ever get a chance to file that removal order?" 

"No, I think it was forgotten in all the chaos. If she ever intended to go through with it at all."

"Can you make sure it stays that way?"

"Well, I can try. I have superiors to answer to, but I doubt its crossed anyone's mind. God knows why you care, though." M rubs the still tender muscles in his wounded arm.

"He was one of us. We left him behind." Bond looks almost apologetic, but resolute.

"The man he was deserves to be remembered."

*

Time of death according to liver temperature, onset of rigor mortis and stomach content is consistent to the time listed in the initial examiner's report. 

My final conclusion on the cause of death is via exsanguination by a stab wound to the back and simultaneous partial severing of the spinal column, leading to almost certain brain death within a matter of minutes. 

The body will be reconstituted and held at these premises until burial or cremation orders are issued. Since there are no known living relatives of the deceased, the body is deigned government property under MI6 jurisdiction. 

*

The wind was sour on Bond's face as he exited the MI6 offices and walked along the river. He slowed down as the memorial wall came into view, looming above. The grey marble stone was wet from the rain, small drops running down and pooling into the letters carved into it.

So many names. So many missing, or presumed dead.

"This ugly thing always gets me down," a voice next to James squeaks out. A small, elderly lady with a yellow umbrella and warm eyes is standing next to him, looking at all the names. "And I have to walk past it every day," she shakes her head.

Bond smiles. "It is rather unsightly."

His eyes search the stone for one name in particular and he involuntarily sucks in a breath when he finds it. The old lady looks at him with new realization.

"Oh," she utters. "You knew someone whose name is on this wall. My apologies." She looks down for a moment. 

"No worries," Bond says, still staring at one name. "Yes, I knew some of them." 

The lady folds down her yellow umbrella, seeing the skies break open and no longer needing it. "I'm so sorry for your loss, dear," she says and lightly touches James' arm before resuming her walk home.

_TIAGO RODRIGUEZ - 1997_

James takes off one glove and lets his finger trace the outlines of the name, another ache to add to all the others. 

He pulls his coat collars up against the wind, and walks back into the world of the living.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm obviously not a pathologist so please excuse any faulty medical lingo. Also I have no idea what the memorial wall looks like, or if it even exists so I took some creative liberties.


End file.
